Begin To Hope
by circusfreak88
Summary: This is the third in my A Creature I Don't Know series. I would advise you read A Creature I Don't Know and then Busy. This is series 6 rewritten.
1. Open

Summary: The third stor in my A Creature I Don't Know series.  
The first part is here:  s/8467907/1/A-Creature-I-Don-t-Know  
and then the second story Busy can be found here:  s/8575381/1/Busy

A/N: This story will follow, vaguely, along the lines of series 6. Buffy died.

Disclaimer:Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, 20th Century Fox, UPN and WB Television Networks own the television shows, "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" and "Angel". Dark Horse and IDW own the Comics. No copyright infringement is intended, no money is being earned by myself. The title of each chapter, and the story as a whole, come from a Regina Spektor song title.

Thank you all for your kind words and support for my last story. I hope you enjoy my continuation of it. I would love to hear your thoughts on my thoughts. Many thanks.

* * *

1. Open

He found her at the bar. Found would be the wrong word. He knew she was going to be there. A girl matching her description had sat at the bar, drink in one hand a cigarette in the other, winding up the last hours between daylight and dusk every day for the past fortnight.

She had acquired quite a reputation in trying to lay low.

As he sat down besides her he found little comfort in the fact he was sat next to the only other human in the dark pub. The slight acknowledgement she made to his presence was by ordering him a drink with a simple wave of her hand. She muttered her thanks to the bar tender in before she returned her attention to her own drink before her.

If the couple of glasses around her were anything to go by she hadn't been here that long. By the ease in which she sat amongst the demons he assumed his first instincts were wrong and that she had, in fact, been sat on that stool since she'd woken.

He looked down at his dirty glass and contemplated the drink before him. He had a double whiskey, straight. She was drinking the same. He assumed she had been for quite some time.

"If you've come to take me back, I'm not going anywhere." She said simply.

"It would have be naive of me to think you would."

"Do I want to know how you found me?"

"You left quite a trail of devastation in your journey below the boarder." He told her. "That, and Cordelia now works for a detective company." He ignored her scoff and downed his drink.

He wasn't sure he'd been in a building this bleak since his university days and his friends had called him Ripper.

"Do I want to know how you're financing yourself?" He eventually asked after ordering another drink for them each.

"Drug lords hire vamps." He looked across at her for the first time and saw past the hair she was using to hide her face. She pale and badly beaten.

"You haven't- you're not..." He couldn't finish either question.

"I kill the vamps, steal their wage." She shook her head, her hair hid her face once more. "Do you not think, if I'd died, you'd of found out by now? A nice young 15 year old sent to the Hellmouth all bright eyed and bushy tailed?"

He hadn't seen her like this for many years now. So lost, so alone, so dark, so hell-bent on her own self destruction.

He finished his second drink and pushed back his stool. He could sit here no longer. He could watch her fall no more. He couldn't lose her. Not another one.

He threw a fist full of peso onto the counter in what he hoped would settle both his and her own bar tab. The keeper lapped them up gratefully. Gracias. Gracias.

He dropped the reason he was here besides her drink. She looked down at the ticket before her. MEX-LHR.

"Use it. Don't use it." Giles sighed as he made to leave. "Just don't die down here. I can't lose you as well."

* * *

She didn't use it. She couldn't. Returning to London with him would mean starting a new life. A life without her. Their relationship hadn't been conventional. There had been violence, torture, near deaths. But there had also been love. For Faith that was all that mattered. She'd found someone to love her; not because they had to, not out of guilt, not out of loyalty but simply because they could.

When Faith first found him besides her she'd assumed he'd been there to take her back to California. Back to his house, his home. Back to her grave. Back to work. She'd known he would come, she'd known what she would say to him. She'd thought of little else than spitting a barrage of bitter words at him and sending him on his way. She'd assumed she would pick up again, head further south. Keep travelling, keep moving. He couldn't follow forever. He wouldn't follow forever.

Then one day she would die and a new little girl would have her life ruined.

What he had offered her was far worse, though. He had offered to take her back to England. He'd offered her an opportunity to start her life again. To move on, to forget. She could build a new life, meet new people - ones that thought vampires existed only in children's books - she could live again.

He'd come into the bar to offer her the chance to move on and to forget.

She'd rather he'd not come at all.

* * *

The telephone call had come from the American Embassy in La Paz. He was to board a plane. She was safe. She would be flown to Miami in the morning. He'd be best to get a flight there.

The man never mentioned how she'd come to be in Bolivia, nor did he say how he'd known to call him in Bath. Giles suspected he wouldn't have been told even if he'd asked. All he knew that Faith was in a military hospital and about to return to the United States of America.

It was Xander that Giles called. He would be able to fly out east far sooner than Giles would be able to apply for his visa again. He had never expected Xander to tell him he couldn't. He couldn't because Buffy was alive and he didn't want to leave her. Not yet. She was still so vulnerable.

But then again so was Faith. Did no one else care for the other slayer. Had they been too quick to resurrect the dead to forget about those already living.

He listened to Xander babble his – more likely Willow's – reasoning. Hell, torture, punishment. Yet she was already dead, how much more suffering could she be going through. Could they not leave her this once. Could they not let her rest this one time.

Yet they'd always been the same. Ever since her first days in Sunnydale they'd looked to her for answers, for leadership, to swoop in and save the day. They'd abandoned Faith to the sidelines, just as they were doing once more.

Faith was gone. Faith was forgotten. Nobody cared that she was very much alive too.

* * *

And there we have it... Thank you for reading A Creature I Don't Know and Busy. I hope you enjoy Begin To Hope.


	2. Blue Lips

Summary: The third stor in my A Creature I Don't Know series.  
The first part is here:  s/8467907/1/A-Creature-I-Don-t-Know  
and then the second story Busy can be found here:  s/8575381/1/Busy

A/N: This story will follow, vaguely, along the lines of series 6. Buffy died.

Disclaimer:Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, 20th Century Fox, UPN and WB Television Networks own the television shows, "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" and "Angel". Dark Horse and IDW own the Comics. No copyright infringement is intended, no money is being earned by myself. The title of each chapter, and the story as a whole, come from a Regina Spektor song title.

Thank you all for your kind words and support for my last story. I hope you enjoy my continuation of it. I would love to hear your thoughts on my thoughts. Many thanks.

* * *

2. Blue Lips

She woke up in hospital. Instinctively one hand went to her head as the other felt down her thigh and she focussed on moving her legs. Her head was fine, as was her right leg, she feared to look down at her left. It was itchy though. Itchy was good. Itchy meant it was there, that she could feel it.

She shifted her position so she was sitting up, she found her left leg was in a cast. A cast was good, a cast meant it was there, a cast meant it could be fixed; healed.

"You might be on crutches for a little bit," she searched for the voice and found a soldier, arms crossed tight across his chest, leaning against the doorframe. "Said that wouldn't be a problem for you. Said you could handle yourself pretty well on those things."

"G.I. Joe." Faith smiled at him. "How long was I out for?"

"We sedated you back in the jungle," Riley told her, pulling out a chair and sitting besides her bed, "while I told them you could handle the pain my medics over ruled me. Plus you were cussing the whole damn place out."

"How long was I out for?" She asked again.

"Two days. One for travel, one under anaesthesia while we fixed your hip."

"Where are we now? Sacaba or La Paz?"

"Bradford County."

"There's a Bradford in Bolivia?"

"No..." The moment he dropped eye contact was the moment she realised, "but there's a Bradford in Florida."

"Hence the day's travel..." She sighed turning away from him.

"Would of been less but we were in the middle of a jungle. Hey," he slapped her across the shoulder, "you saved me and my men, least we could do was save your leg."

"Your men-" she pointed at him, "-would not have needed saving had you not been playing Slayer!"

He dropped his head and looked at his hands, "Begs the question," he looked back at her to check her mood before he continued, "what were you doing playing Slayer in the middle of jungle... Last I heard the Hellmouth was in California."

She didn't answer him though, merely found something interesting going on outside her window.

"How long my leg going to be in a cast?"

"Doctors say 9 - 12 weeks."

She considered this for a moment, "So about 3 weeks tops then?" He simply looked back at her blankly. "Slayer healing."

"Buf-"

She held up her hand to silence him. "Don't. Don't say it. Don't tell me. Don't want to know."

He knew better than to question. He knew the girl before him well enough not to protest. "You think three weeks?" He gestured to her leg and received a nod in reply. "Keep up with physio and show the medics you're as good as your word and they'll probably only keep you a week."

"Keep me? _Keep me_?" She practically spat at him.

"We're the military," he slapped his knees as if using them to help push himself to a stand, "just be grateful you don't have a chip in your head." He walked to the door and knew she was inspecting her temple once more. "Its a joke. I can joke." He smiled at her from the door. "Also, its Lieutenant Colonel now."

She managed just 40 minutes in the confines of her bed before hobbling out and finding some clothes. She then lasted only two hours within the halls of the military hospital. Her hip was roaring with pain. It was on fire from the punishment she was putting it through. Pain was good. It was if she didn't feel a thing she could worry. Pain was good.

It took the military only 20 minutes to track her down and march her back to the hospital, back to her bed.

* * *

She received visitors.

Over the stretch of three days she had met all of Riley's squadron again.

By the forth she was telling stories to strangers. Stories of alligators, of monsters that could bathe entire towns in silence, of demons that could split men in two, of hellgods.

By the fifth day he arrived.

"Hello Faith." He smiled kindly at her, a brown bag of grapes in his hands.

"Hey." She smiled back at him, reaching out from her seated position to bring him into a hug. "Sorry about…" He merely shook his head, it was forgotten.

"I would have been here sooner," Giles explained, "but I was told you were in a base down by Miami."

"How's England?"

"It has a Queen, a warring parliament and its raining. How are you?"

"Got a metal plate in my hip. Oh," her smile broadened and a mischievous grin, a look he hadn't seen on her face for months, years, since she was so much younger than she was now, crossed her face. "I'm a goddamn hero!"

"So I hear." He sat himself down in one of her chairs and offered her the grapes he'd brought. "What happened?"

"Demons. Lots. Nest." She shrugged. "I was just passing through, the military was invading-"

"Maybe there was oil." He muttered.

"-lucky I was there, managed to save the day-"

"To be a goddamn hero." Giles stated lacking all of Faith's enthusiasm. "Are you ready to come home now?"

"Home?" She practically scoffed at him. There was no home he could offer her. "To England? To Sunnydale?"

"Its up to you." He told her, had she been looking she would have seen him avoid catching her gaze. Yet she was far from him. She would not be found so easily.

"They've asked me to come on board... To be a special advisor... To stop them from wandering blindly into massacres or to help them if they do. To-"

"To be a goddamn hero?"

She merely shrugged once more. He watched her move from the bed, to chair, to standing at the window. If she was in pain she wasn't showing it. If she was in pain he wasn't to know.

"Last time I saw you, you were on a self destructive path... Last time I saw you, you were in mourning."

"People die."

"People we love?"

"She... Buffy..." She corrected with regret, "didn't love me."

He joined her by the window and looked out at the soldiers outside. At the soldiers obeying orders without question, without thought. Their lives were regimented, were controlled. Theirs was not the place to question, to think.

"You can't know that."

"She told me she loved me." There was a slight turn of her head. For a fleeting moment she may have met his eyes. But just as soon as the moment came, it was gone again. "But she was never mine…I realise that now…Jungles tend to lend to the perspective having." She shrugged.

"Buffy was never to be anyone's. I discovered that within the first week of meeting her. The council discovered that. You should have known that."

They fell back into the silence that had filled Giles' house those first few weeks she inhabited it. They fell back into silence while Giles tried to find a way to fix the small girl before him, if she would allow herself to be rebuilt a second time. If she would ever trust him enough to do so.

"Buffy's alive." He told her softly as she continued to look out of the window. "She's back."

She turned back and met his gaze. It was more than fleeting this time. He looked back at her and found there was nothing there.

There was nothing left behind her eyes.

* * *

Thank you all for your kind words and your follows after just one chapter. I'm really enjoying writing this third instalment. I would have quite happily skipped past season five (its an amazing season, I just didn't write it very well) but I needed Buffy to die. I wrote the last chapter before I had even finished A Creature I Don't Know.

So, in short, thank you very much for supporting this new project. Circus.


	3. Fidelity

A/N: This story will follow, vaguely, along the lines of series 6. Buffy died. I suggest a strong knowledge of Flooded for this update.

Disclaimer:Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, 20th Century Fox, UPN and WB Television Networks own the television shows, "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" and "Angel". Dark Horse and IDW own the Comics. No copyright infringement is intended, no money is being earned by myself. The title of each chapter, and the story as a whole, come from a Regina Spektor song title.

Thank you all for your kind words and support for my last story. I hope you enjoy my continuation of it. I would love to hear your thoughts on my thoughts. Many thanks.

* * *

3. Fidelity

It started with a dripping pipe. Her sister issuing instructions from the sidelines. Then suddenly there was water everywhere and her friends were telling her that there was no money left.

She was in the bank, being refused for a loan and stopping a robbery from a demon.

It concluded with research, all of them trying to find the demon and motive, but then he walked in.

Her arms were tight around him as he held her close. The others disappeared or they themselves left. All she knew was she was alone with him. All that mattered was that he'd come back for her.

"So..." He simply smiled at her as they sat side by side in the training room once more.

"I can start." Buffy smiled back at him. "How was England? How was life?"

"I'm not sure how to answer that." Giles removed his glasses and started to clean the lenses. "I arrived home. Met with the council-"

"Tons of fun."

He nodded, "Other than that, there wasn't much to report. I keep a flat in Bath. Saw a few old friends and almost made a new one, which I believe is statistically impossible for a man my age-"

"And now you're back."

"Yes."

"Without Faith."

"Faith did not come to England with me."

"But you met with her?"

"Yes."

"Wow Giles, was it that bad or are you just really British?" She tried to joke but they both knew it had fallen flat.

"I can't lie to you, Buffy. It was difficult

leaving Sunnydale. Tracking down Faith and seeing her that was..."

"Will said you found her in Mexico."

He nodded. "She didn't take kindly to being found as I only you could know."

"How was she?"

"She was Faith." He said simply. "But how are you? Really. You look tired."

"Me? Nah. Fine." She looked away, before starting to examine her hands. "I mean, yeah, sleeping's hard, but just

because of that whole waking up in a

box thing. So maybe it's waking up that's the problem. But only for a second." She tried to shrug it off, but Giles knew she was hurting. "I sleep okay. Great even, except, you know... for the dreams..."

Giles reached out and found her, put an arm around her and let her be held once more. "You seem to be doing remarkably

well under extreme circumstances. I'm proud of you."

"Well, actually, it wasn't me." She deflected the compliment moving away from him. "Willow brought me back. I just lay there."

"Yes. I only meant-"

"I know what you meant. Just a little

post postmortem comedy..." She looked around the room, to all her training equipment and tools. "Better start prepping. The slayage."

"There is always that, isn't there?" He nodded as she bound her hands.

"Seems that way."

He didn't tell her that Faith was back in America. There seemed little point. While Faith had progressed remarkably from the girl he'd met in the bar, while she didn't seem so focused on her own self destruction, she still didn't want to return with him. Even after she knew that Buffy lived.

Buffy didn't ask. She didn't want to know. There was no point in knowing. Knowing wouldn't change a thing.

She'd thought, assumed, hoped Faith would return with him. Her friends had filled her in on most, a lot, some of what had happened after her sacrifice. They had told her of Faith's devastation, of her flight in the night, of the return of the Buffybot. They'd told her of Mexico, of Angel Investigations, of Giles' search. They'd not mentioned that Giles had returned to England alone. They had not mentioned that Faith had not wanted to be found.

She thought back to the last couple of months with her. Of the stupid fights, of their drift apart. She wondered if Faith had been right; if Spike had put a wedge between them or she'd simply had the weight of the world, of her sister, on her shoulders.

Only two people could understand what she was going through now. One could be on the other side of the world, not wanting to be found, the other was a vampire who everyone despised.

Dawn never said anything, Dawn was too clever to do that, but Buffy could tell she blamed Spike for Faith's departure. Perhaps if Buffy had kept him at a distance, perhaps if she hadn't let him in for those last few weeks Faith might have stayed. Dawn didn't understand that if Buffy had done that, if she'd actively chosen Faith over Spike, more might have died that final night.

What hurt the most though, it wasn't the coming back, it wasn't the having to deal with life again, it wasn't even knowing that she'd been pulled out of heaven. It was simply that Buffy had returned, brought back to fight another day, when Faith had been allowed to slip into the night. To quit.

Why didn't she get to stop?

Even in dying she'd had but two-three months off before her friends came calling for her to save the day once more.

And yet Faith got to run away.

Got to give it all up.

To quit.

Token search parties where set up, sent out. She was found and she was spoken to. Yet she was left alone. Left to be. Let off. The weight of the world no longer on her shoulders.

Buffy wasn't even allowed to die.

* * *

She looked down at the sheets before her, the poor offering of a bed she'd created. Of course he had sold his flat. With both his girls gone there would be little point in maintaining a property on the hellmouth. She had learnt that Sunnydale house values would never be competitive. She wondered what he did with the money, if perhaps it had bought his apartment in Bath or maybe he had even given some to Faith when he found her in Mexico. Helped to fund her freedom.

She shook her head and returned to the task in hand. "They're all I got." She looked sadly at the linen covering the sofa.

"Think nothing of it." He smiled softly at her as he wrapped a pillow into its case. "They're whimsical."

"They were mine when I was little. I couldn't find the guest sheets. Mom always did this stuff." She couldn't remember a life before Dawn occupied the spare room. She couldn't imagine that life. She assumed house guests must have always slept on the sofa. Yet that didn't seem right either. Maybe at some point they'd had a sofa that turned into a bed. Maybe they'd never actually had guests.

"That's fine! I'll just..." She watched as Giles managed to make it a lot more comfortable than she had. She wondered if Willow and Tara had not moved in if he'd be staying in her mother's bed. She wondered if Willow and Tara had not moved in if he himself would have taken guardianship of her sister. Taken her to England. Perhaps Faith might of stayed then. Her father might have even taken Dawn. Taken a child he'd never actually met, but had memories of raising.

"Pff. I blame the sofa." She waved it all away. "We need a real pull-out bed. The kind with no payments 'til two-thousand-and-infinity."

"What?"

"Just, money stuff." She sat down on one of the pillows he'd just straightened. "Turns out Mom left me some and while I was dead? Got squandered on luxuries like food and clothing."

"How bad is it?"

"Anya says bad. I'm kinda taking her word for it. Actually, I'm kinda trying to not think about it."

"A sound policy." He agreed as he finished straightening up the sheets. "At least for tonight."

"Yeah, I'll just put it out of my mind for awhile, take a break, get some perspective..." She rearranged herself so she was no longer sitting on his pillow, "then wake up at 4am terrified."

"Buffy," he sat down besides her, "you may be putting too much pressure on yourself. To return from some unknown level of Hell... it's only natural coming back would be a process."

"In the meantime, I'm scaring people."

"That may take some time, too."

"Good." She nodded, "I've always hoped to freak out the people who love me. And not just in the short-term, but you know - as a lifestyle."

"If it's any consolation, life can get

overwhelming even for people who haven't been..." He waited to finish his sentence until he could find a suitable ending. He couldn't think of one. "...where you have."

"I guess, but I don't know, Giles, I mean... stuff like spoons are still weird to me. Then you add complex financial issues on top of that,and - Buffy go bye-bye." She shook her head, it was all too much.

"Perhaps you should just go night-night instead." Giles offered her after a pregnant pause.

"Was that meant to be soothing?" She smiled weakly at him, catching his eye for the first time that evening.

"And it became a debacle of epic proportions." He nodded in return. "But - tomorrow, you and I can sit down

together and go over everything. Every

bill, one by one. We'll work it out... together."

"I'm glad you're back."

"Well. I'm glad you are too."

They shared a smile and Giles moved to reach out and touch her. But the moment had passed, the smile had gone as quickly as it had come and she was standing once more. Bed, she told him, she had to go to bed.

A couple more pleasantries were exchanged before she was allowed to escape upstairs, to her room, to her privacy. She need not be strong, or a slayer or even Buffy in her room. She was free to be lost and alone.

As she alternated between bathroom and her own, she heard a hushed argument between Giles and Willow. An argument clearly not for her ears. Willow told him how she'd pulled Buffy from hell, Giles told her she was stupid. Buffy heard it all. And she was grateful to the man for realising that death might not always be the end of the world.

* * *

Thank you all so much for your continued support. Circus


	4. The Party

A/N: This story will follow, vaguely, along the lines of series 6. Buffy died. I suggest a strong knowledge of All The Way for this update.

Disclaimer:Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, 20th Century Fox, UPN and WB Television Networks own the television shows, "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" and "Angel". Dark Horse and IDW own the Comics. No copyright infringement is intended, no money is being earned by myself. The title of each chapter, and the story as a whole, come from a Regina Spektor song title.

Thank you all for your kind words and support for my last story. I hope you enjoy my continuation of it. I would love to hear your thoughts on my thoughts. Many thanks.

* * *

4. The Party

The shop was packed. Giles seemed to be having a Halloween Bonanza!, or at least that's what the banner above his till promised, and everyone - including Dawn - had been roped in to help. Yet Xander was tucked away in Charmed Objects, a locket hanging limply from his hook and book in his free hand.

"What cha' reading?" She asked peering over his shoulder, startling him into losing his page.

"What are you doing here? Apart from the sneaking and the jumping."

"Well," she thought for a moment, "right now I'm going to suggest you don't summon a demon." He opened his mouth to protest but found any words of justification were lacking. "Tend to not be as cute and fluffy as the brochures describe add the fact that magic always seems to be 50-50 at best."

"This one sings and dances though."

"No." She shook her head and took the talisman from the end of his hook. "Just no. Where's Buffy?"

"I think Ahn sent her downstairs for a root, maybe even a whole branch, of something."

"Cool." She smiled at him, holding out her hand. He looked at it for a moment before offering his own in return. "The book, Xan."

"Oh." He sheepishly passed it over and went in search of a customer to help.

She wondered through the shop, dodging customers and children before slipping behind the counter.

"Keep this locked up," she smiled at Giles as she passed him the book, "before Xander starts reading Latin in front of it." Giles would of replied, he might of even hugged her, however, she was gone and downstairs before he could say anything.

She stood in the shadows, on the edge of their conversation. She watched as Spike purred around her. She watched as Buffy did little to rebuff him. She watched as Buffy lived before her.

"Feel like a bit of the rough and tumble?" Spike asked Buffy causing the girl to move out of the shadows and back into their lives.

"I'm going remind you of the sharp pointy sticks I like to ram into your chest at this point, Billy."

"Faith." He sighed at her.

"Of course," Buffy spun round to face her, "of all the times you're going to just wander back into Sunnydale its going to be in the middle of this conversation."

"Miss me?" Faith asked her with a mischievous smile.

Buffy was definitely alive.

* * *

Spike left back through the tunnels, Burba weed tucked into his pockets and the girls headed back upstairs, through the shop floor and into the training room. They stood in silence, Buffy leaning on the pummel horse at one end of the room, Faith perched on the mats at the other. They stood in silence and worlds apart from each other.

"You're back then." They said in unison after months separation.

"Willow." Buffy explained. Faith simply nodded.

"What's it like?"

"Being dead or being alive when I shouldn't be?" Buffy asked her in return.

"Either?" Faith shrugged. "Both?"

"I'd of thought you'd of already known."

"I never actually died though." She looked across at Buffy and found her staring at her feet. "Its tough." Faith said softly. "Like each day is a struggle. Like you wake up thinking you should be grateful, but instead you just wake up resenting the struggle or, at best, with more existential questions. Why am I here? What should I do now? Searching for meaning in accidents, on the back of cereal packets. Feeling bad for not feeling happy. Feeling guilty for not loving each moment. Feeling angry that life so horrible and demony."

Buffy wasn't sure she'd ever heard Faith say so much at one time. She wasn't sure she'd ever heard Faith speak so candidly. She wondered if Faith would ever speak so plainly again.

"I was in heaven." Faith looked up and met her eye. "I don't know, I think it was heaven. There was no big bearded man, no harps, but it was quiet and I was at peace."

"Peace is good."

"It was."

Faith slowly crossed the room, as if she feared that Buffy would break with any sudden movement. Faith moved so she was besides her. She gave no indication that she would touch her, that she would comfort her.

"What are you going to do now?"

Faith gave her half a smile, "I was going to ask you that."

"And so you don't answer?"

"I don't know what I'm going to do."

They stood quietly next to each other. They were so silent, so still, a stranger might have thought they had never met before.

"You've quit though?" Faith remained silent. "You don't get to quit!" Suddenly Buffy had turned and she was staring at her, shouting her words, spitting them. Faith pushed herself away from her. From the fight. She headed back towards the door. "You fight until you die and even then you have keep going."

Faith stole a glance towards her. Quick and fleeting as if she was looking at Medusa. "Are you angry at me for leaving or for coming back?" Her words were so soft they were nearly whispered.

"You quit."

"I. Didn't. Quit." Faith told her. Her hand on the door. Her muscles tensed. Every part of her trying to remain calm. "I killed Ben." Her back was still turned, her hand was still firmly wrapped around the door handle. "You showed him mercy. I had to kill him. Giles told me that I had to kill him. Because you couldn't. But then you jumped. You died. None of it mattered. All that remained was that I'd killed another human."

Her voice was soft. Her words sharp and clear.

"I couldn't stay."

"You quit on Dawn."

"So did you."

She didn't know when she'd released the handle, but she found that both her hands were balled into fists. The hairs on the back of her neck were on edge. Her body was tense. Her muscles ready to fight. She knew that Buffy was exactly the same. If she turned-

A knock at the door, a friend calling out to them. The shop was shut. Everyone had collapsed into chairs. Anya was counting her money.

"They don't know." Buffy told her, standing painfully close and taking the door handle. "They're not to know."

She waited for Faith to nod in agreement before shaking all her emotion away and opening the door to the rest of the world.

"Looks who's back." Buffy smiled at her friends as if all that had happened in the training room was an exchange of holiday photos. Dawn ran to embrace Faith and Buffy watched as Faith hugged her back. She smiled when Dawn punched her on the arm.

"Next time," Dawn told her, "at least leave a note."

"How was Mexico?" Tara asked her as Faith made her way to a chair.

"Didn't stay there too long." She put her feet up on the table, "Peru was nice."

"Were there alpacas? Alpacas always look so cute!" Willow smiled at her.

"They're evil." Anya stated unequivocally from behind the counter. "Not bunny evil, but there's definitely a level of maleficence that's yet to be accounted for."

"And I'm going to marry that girl!" Xander half laughed when his friends looked to him for an explanation. He stopped smiling when he realised what he said. He got up and walked towards Anya, standing agog with the money hanging limply from her hands.

"Now?" She questioned him.

"Now." He allowed her enough time to put down the day's takings and join him on the shop floor, he wrapped an arm around her and beamed ear to ear as he told his friends once more: "We're getting married!"

Faith watched as hugs, handshakes and congratulations were passed round the group, she listened as Buffy and Giles spoke about his glasses, before she stood up.

"That's it, I'm calling it." Her friends looked back at her blankly, if not entirely shocked, "Party!" she smiled at them all.

* * *

They stood in Buffy's living room, drinks in hand, while Xander and Anya proudly showed off their wedding rings. Apparently he'd proposed that one night before the summer. That night when Dawn had been captured, Buffy had retreated into herself and Giles was recovering from losing half of his insides. Apparently he'd proposed after Buffy had returned to them and they were all looking for a plan.

There were mild looks of discomfort which went above Anya's head and which dissipated when Dawn asked to try on the ring. It was when Buffy apologised for the lack of decorations, when Willow conjured some out of thin air and when Faith punched her that the awkwardness returned.

"Dawn," Buffy noticed the child in the room before Willow had even hit the ground, "why don't you and help Anya in the kitchen."

"But I'm not in the kit-" Anya stopped halfway through. "Yes." She nodded taking Dawn's hand. "I need help in the kitchen doing womanly things. In the kitchen."

Dawn simply rolled her eyes, muttered something about everyone knowing she'd listen in, but followed anyway.

Buffy held her arms tight across her chest, Tara tended to Willow who was slowly getting back to her feet, Giles took a step back while Xander simply looked confused at them all.

"I get it!" He smiled at them all, while pointing triumphantly at Faith. "They're both Faith." Everyone simply frowned at him. "How 'bout I help the ladies in the kitchen."

"Faith?" Buffy questioned once he, too, had left the room.

"I really don't like magic." Faith said casually, sipping from her drink, as if the crime she'd committed was simply to turn the music off.

"So you hit me?" Willow looked at her.

"We could have bought some decorations. Shops are still open."

"So you hit me?" Willow repeated.

"She, uh..." Tara faltered, "she, uh, has a point. Not with the punching," she added quickly, "but about the magic."

"First Giles, then Faith, now you?" Willow turned on her girlfriend, betrayed. "I expect this from them, to be honest I'm surprised Faith hasn't turned on us sooner-"

"Faith hasn't turned." Buffy stepped in.

"No?" Willow frowned at her, "because I'm going to have a Faith shaped bruise that might suggest otherwise."

"Why don't you stick a glamour over it?" Faith suggested, to which everyone in the room shot her a warning glare.

"Willow," Tara put a hand on her girlfriend's shoulder, "I j-just want you to stop and think about what you're-"

"You're always coming down on me for doing magic that couldn't hurt a fly." She spun back round to face her. "What's your problem?"

"You're using too much magic." Tara told her softly.

"I didn't hear you say that when I brought Buffy back."

"I want to help the ladies in the kitchen." Buffy said, with half a smile, when she found all eyes on her.

"Tell them." Faith said simply.

"Tell them what? That I'm a rank, arrogant amateur?" Willow asked parroting Giles' words back at him. "That I'm lucky to be alive. I don't hear Buffy complaining."

"Guys," Buffy pleaded at them all, "this really isn't the time."

"You're not complaining, are you?" Willow asked her again, rapidly losing confidence in her own argument.

"This is meant to be a party." Buffy tried once more.

"No." Willow shot her down. "I think its clear this party is over. I think you've all made yourselves very clear."

* * *

Faith heard Anya complaining bitterly to Xander from the bedroom. She tried to settle down, find some comfort on Xander's sofa but little was to be had. As Faith lay, staring up at the ceiling the only thing that ran round her head was the last thing Buffy said to her before she not so subtly hinted that staying elsewhere would be wise.

_"Why exactly did you bother coming back?"_

A knock at the front door disturbed Faith from her thoughts. She heard a pillow hit the other side of Xander's bedroom door and slowly tumbled off the sofa. She crossed the room and found Buffy looking back at her through the peephole.

She opened the door and watched as Buffy nervously averted her gaze from her body.

"S'not as though Xan's not seen it all before." Faith explained away the little attire she was wearing. She left the door open for her guest and walked back to the sofa. She felt Buffy's eyes on the scar covering most of her left thigh.

"Dawn's gone."

Faith grabbed at the pair of trousers hanging over the back of the couch and pulled them on.

"Halloween, school night, if she's anything like you were," Faith looked up at Buffy as she tried to dress without exposing herself any further, "she'll be with a boy."

"Long as he's not a vampire."

Faith merely smirked as she led the way back out of the apartment.

* * *

Buffy passed her a beer as she sat down besides her on the porch. The two of them could hear the muffled sounds of Willow and Tara's continued argument. Faith wondered how long the girl had waited before sneaking out. Dawn hated it when couples fought around her. All the memories of her parent's divorce placed at the forefront of her mind my the monks.

"What happened to your leg?" Buffy eventually asked.

"A tree fell on it. Army gave me a metal hip to replace it."

"Any fancy upgrades?"

"I can unicycle now."

"Seri-" Buffy cut herself off when she realised Faith had been joking. "I'm sorry about before."

"Before's a large category."

"About saying you quit on Dawn."

"I would never." Faith told her, meeting her eyes for the first time since they'd returned back to Revello Drive. "I quit on me." Buffy sipped from her own drink and waited for Faith to elaborate. "You were slowly leaving me. Giles turned to me to be the killer slayer... And then you died." Faith moved uncomfortably on the cold wooden step. "There seemed no reason to continue. So I quit."

Buffy took the beer from her hand and sat it besides them. She moved closer to Faith and placed her lips on hers.

As Faith kissed her back, Buffy found she felt something for the first time since she'd come back.

* * *

Thank you, Circus


	5. That Time

A/N: This story will follow, vaguely, along the lines of series 6. Buffy died. I suggest a strong knowledge of Tabula Rasa for this update.

Disclaimer:Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, 20th Century Fox, UPN and WB Television Networks own the television shows, "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" and "Angel". Dark Horse and IDW own the Comics. No copyright infringement is intended, no money is being earned by myself. The title of each chapter, and the story as a whole, come from a Regina Spektor song title.

Thank you all for your kind words and support for my last story. I hope you enjoy my continuation of it. I would love to hear your thoughts on my thoughts. Many thanks.

* * *

5. That Time

Buffy found Faith in the training room. Her hands and wrists bound as she fought with the punching bag. Buffy surveyed her for a while, standing on the edge of the room simply watching the younger girl.

After Faith had turned Xander's engagement party into a shambles she had questioned why she'd bothered to return. She wondered if it had simply been to disrupt her already agitated life. Yet it had been Faith that she'd called upon late in the night when she found Dawn missing. It was Faith she'd called upon to help her tack her down. It was Faith who'd helped return her home to bed, only slightly worse for wear. It was the Faith who she'd invited into her own bed afterwards. She wasn't entirely sure how it had happened, all she knew was that it had.

"Thought we'd got past the get some get gone phase." Buffy questioned her, stepping further into the room.

"Didn't think Red would want to see me this morning."

"So you thought you'd lay low, stay out of her way and hide away in a shop she almost never hangs out in?"

"With sarcasm," Faith smiled at her, unwrapping the bandages from her hands, "sometimes less is more." She towelled off and threw a sweater back over her head. "Besides, I wasn't so sure you'd want to see me this morning." Buffy opened her mouth to protest but found no words came out. "As I thought." Faith smiled sadly at her, slouching down on the sofa.

"Thank you for what you did last night... For Dawn." Buffy added quickly thinking about the way she'd phrased it.

"You know I'll always look after her."

"Except for the times you're exploring Latin America." Faith rolled her eyes. "Thank you for talking with her though, that meant a lot."

"Teenage rebellion. Sex. Drinking. Kind of wrote the book on that one." Faith nodded. "I mean you met me at her age."

"Think you were slightly older when you first came to town."

"Precisely," Faith pointed at her with a smile, "I'd mellowed by that point. No more naked alligator wrestling."

"I take it back. Don't talk to Dawn."

They fell into silence. Faith sat on the sofa while Buffy remained on the edge. If their relationship had been strained in the last few weeks of her life she had no idea what adjective she could use to describe what they were going through now.

She'd had come to the Magic Box with a plan, it was a good plan, or a plan at the very least. She would find Faith, talk to her and everything would... She didn't know if she wanted a return to normal but she wanted the awkwardness to dissipate. She had loved this girl at one point, hated her at several other, the awkwardness between them though was simply painful.

She had had a plan before she'd bumped into Spike in the shadows. There was also a shark, or a shark man, and she discovered why Spike was out of his crypt in the middle of the day. She'd saved his life, again, and suddenly her plan of talking with Faith seemed far more complex. Spike was everywhere and nowhere, but when it mattered, when everyone else had fled – he had remained. He had found her, along with Dawn, taken her home and taken care of her. Spike had stayed. He chose to fight along side her friends, along side people who detested him, all summer long. He had remained.

Any minute one of them would speak. One of them would explain what was going on. One of them would make the decision about where they go, how they move on. Yet neither had the words. Neither needed them though as both simply passed out.

* * *

She awoke to find herself on a cold industrial floor. She looked round and imagined it must be some sort of gym; given the pummel horse, mats and punching bag. But then she spotted the weapons on the wall and surmised she was in some sort of dojo. But that just led to more questions; such as why was she on the floor, did she know martial arts and why did she remember the name for a karate studio but not her own?

She looked to the girl on the sofa, she was starting to stir, maybe she knew who she was. Or maybe she had made her this way. Knocked her out, given her concussion.

"What you looking at?" The girl growled at her while she found her feet.

"Why am I here?"

"You're filming a remake for Flashdance. How the hell should I know? Who are you anyway?"

"Who are you?" She asked after a moment's pause. She watched as the girl considered that question for a moment before she charged at her.

"What have you done to me?" She asked pinning her down. "Why don't I remember anything?"

She shoved the brunette heavily and relieved to find she was strong enough to get her off her chest. "I don't know, but;" she moved so she could defend herself, sensing the stranger would attack once more, "I don't remember anything either."

"You playing me?" She shook her head quickly, nervously unsure of how the girl was going to react.

She watched as the girl looked around the room and then back to her on the floor. The stranger circled her, muttering threats and theories. She assessed her once more before she held out a hand and helped her to her feet. Warnings, threats, more talk of being played and then suddenly the girl's hand was over her mouth and she was telling her to be quiet.

"There are people out there." The girl pointed to the wall. She could only nod. "Betting they did this to us. Some sick rapists or something." The girl scanned the room once again. "Back door."

"What if they're like us?"

"What if they're not?" The stranger pointed to the door again. "You want to end up raped and dead or dead and raped then be my guest, but I see an exit and I'm taking it."

She watched the girl out of the door and contemplated her options. She chose the girl.

As she looked around the room one last time she overheard parts of the panicked conversation from the next room. The people next door were like her too. They didn't know anything either. She chose the girl anyway.

She found her again just standing on the street staring down at her necklace. At dog tags around her neck.

"I'm a soldier." She told her. "My name's Faith Lehane, apparently."

Almost instinctively she took Faith's hand and they started running. Faith lead her to the local library and sat down at one of the computers. She made an odd comment about the fact that she didn't remember who she was, or how she came to be, yet she knew she could use a computer and she knew what Google was. She watched as Faith typed in her name and found a couple of news articles as well as countless results linking to religion. Faith clicked on the top one and read from it:

"_Frontier High School forced to rethink its access policy due to the admittance of a new student. Faith Lehane, 17, is paralysed from the waist down and confined to a wheelchair_-"

"Nice picture."

"How can I have been paralysed?" She asked the girl. "Just five minutes ago I was running."

"What's the other article?"

Faith went back to the results page and opened up the second item, "_Lehane leads Porter's to lacrosse State Finals_. But look at the date," she pointed at the screen, "this is over a year after the Frontier story, 18 months before I couldn't walk now I'm suddenly a sports star? How can someone just get over being paralysed"

"Well you clearly do," the girl pointed at her, "I mean right now you're tapping your feet impatiently. Go back to the other article, it must mention your parents in an angry quote or something."

Faith scanned the article quickly before pointing to the screen, "Here! _Rupert Giles, Lehane's guardian_." She quoted before copying his name and putting that into the search bar. "_Rupert Giles opens his one-stop spot to shop for lots of New-Age and Occult Items._ Magic?" Faith looked towards the stranger with scepticism. "My guardian is Penn and Teller?"

"Well its all we've got so far."

"Fine." Faith sighed making a note of the address. "Guess we'll go see what this Rupert guy knows."

"What about me though?" She asked her. "We don't even know who I am. Though," she added, "I'm leaning towards Joan."

"_Joan_?"

"I like it. I feel like a Joan."

"I hate to be the one to break this to you," Faith looked up at her, "but you look nothing like a Joan."

"What do Joan's look like?"

"Old. Knitted jumpers. May have seen the emancipation of the slaves."

"What would you call me then?"

"Til we figure it out I'm going to call you Portia."

"_Portia_?"

"Portia De Rossi." Faith said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"How can you possibly remember who Portia De Rossi is?"

"How can I get over a crippling case of being crippled?"

"Portia it is." The blonde nodded as they made their way back out of the library.

It was as they were walking back, following the route they'd come, did their memories suddenly – just as randomly as they had disappeared – return. Instantly they were running again.

* * *

Buffy looked around her living room. She looked between Tara's silently falling tears and Willow unreserved crying. She looked between Giles standing in the corner, arms crossed tightly across his chest and Xander with his head in his hands.

She looked back at Willow, no longer even trying to hold it together, her friends, her girlfriend all gathered around her trying to help.

She was using too much magic. Evidenced, almost unashamedly, by the fact that she had cast a spell to make them forget she was using too much magic. A spell that went terribly wrong. She had to stop. They would help her stop.

But then Tara left and Willow was crying once more.

Faith was back at the Magic Box helping Anya and Dawn to tidy up after the 'bunny explosion' as Anya had named it. Dawn had complained about all the poo, Faith had asked her if she wanted to deal with poo or women crying, Dawn had quickly put on a pair of gloves. Buffy had taken Faith's hand and thanked her, she had kissed her on the cheek before leaving with the others.

As Buffy watched the other's coo around Willow she wondered what would have happened had she not been in the next room with Faith. She thought about trying to fight vampires with no knowledge, no recollection of who she was or how to fight.

Then she simply thought of Faith.

* * *

Thank you all very much for your very possitive reviews. I appriciate every single one of them. Thank you, Circus.


	6. Better

A/N: This story will follow, vaguely, along the lines of series 6. Buffy died. I suggest a strong knowledge of Tabula Rasa for this update.

Disclaimer:Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, 20th Century Fox, UPN and WB Television Networks own the television shows, "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" and "Angel". Dark Horse and IDW own the Comics. No copyright infringement is intended, no money is being earned by myself. The title of each chapter, and the story as a whole, come from a Regina Spektor song title.

Thank you all for your kind words and support for my last story. I hope you enjoy my continuation of it. I would love to hear your thoughts on my thoughts. Many thanks.

* * *

6. Better

Buffy studied her dog tags, her name and number so boldly imprinted on the small pieces of metal around her neck. She ran her fingers over the embossed letters and smiled at the girl besides her. Faith had explained a little about her summer in South America. Told her about her own self destruction. Told her about finding Riley and his men. Told her about becoming a 'goddamn hero.' Buffy smiled as Faith's features lit up. She doubted that Faith had every been described as a hero before. To have been so wanted; so needed. To have been the best. It surprised her that Faith found it so readily in the arms of the government.

Faith said little about why she had returned to Sunnydale. She hinted that there had been a plane, engines roaring to go and a last minute retreat. A change of mind. A change of heart. Faith suggested that she might have even returned for her.

It didn't matter though. Since Faith had reappeared, ruined parties and punched friends aside, Buffy had actually felt safe for the first time since her resurrection. It wasn't all on her anymore, she didn't need to be strong, she didn't need to take charge. Faith was doing that.

She ran her hands over Faith's fresh scars across her torso and arms. The scar she'd given her, placed neatly across her abdoment, paled by comparison. She knew that Faith would probably never tell her fully what had happened while she was away, never fully share the burden of those dark months, but she knew that together they were healing.

Faith muttered something about leaving Xander's bed. Buffy looked sheepishly towards his creased sheets and worried he would kill her. Faith merely shrugged. They spoke about Faith getting a place of her own, about the fact that she and Giles were camped out on sofas, but Buffy noticed that Faith - like Giles - had been coy about long term plans.

Buffy watched as the girl found some clothes from the next room and ran to the shower. She though about Willow at home and Tara's packed, yet uncollected, things. She wondered how many more days of college Willow would miss and how long she could stay camped up in the bedroom.

Giles had said that he would help her stop using magic, or at least get her back to using it for a purpose - rather than simply because she could. Yet he, too, seemed to be elsewhere.

When he was there he spoke about leaving. About reading the shop for his return to Bath, about the friend he had nearly made.

He claimed that he worried that Buffy was relying on him too much. Yet she didn't understand, didn't accept that reasoning. She wondered if it was simply that Faith didn't need him anymore.

The girl had rejected him; sent him away in her time of need, yet had managed to come out of the jungle stronger than ever. Faith was finally showing a maturity that he'd craved for her and she had achieved it on her own, ruined parties and punched friends aside. If Giles was leaving because he feared Buffy was leaning on him too much, logically he should take Faith with him. To Buffy, no matter which way she looked at it, which way she analysed it, Giles was leaving to simply to go.

That was fine, he could leave. It was Faith who had stepped in Willow's path, it was Faith who had so boldly confronted her, it could be Faith who could help her. Just as she'd helped with Dawn at Halloween, Faith could help Willow.

Faith was all she needed.

When they didn't know anything, while their memories were absent, Faith had taken charge, taken control. She'd turned into a soldier. When Buffy didn't know what to do, Faith had shown her the way.

Giles spoke of leaving, Tara had gone, Willow was falling apart. Yet Faith had returned. Faith was strong. Faith was taking control. Faith was leading the way so that she didn't have to.

* * *

Minutes wit Faith turned into hours. Hours together turned into days. Days into weeks. Giles flew away. Faith found a small studio apartment. Willow started to piece back her life; choosing to quit magic altogether rather than deal with the pain of controlling it. Tara moved back onto campus, rarely to be seen, barely to be spoken of unless Dawn uttered her name. Xander and Anya spoke of only of their upcoming wedding.

Yet Faith remained the same, remained her constant. Her rock on which she could rebuild her house, her life. Faith took the reins of slaying while Buffy, somewhat less enthusiastically, got a job in a fast food chain. Buffy had asked what Faith was doing for money, Faith suggested that her trip below the border had been quite profitable as she laughed at Buffy's Double Meat Palace uniform.

It didn't matter though. None of it mattered. All that was important was that Faith was taking care of her, of Dawn, of her friends. She didn't have to.

* * *

She told her that she loved her.

* * *

It was one night after closing down the restaurant. She'd found Faith waiting for her in the parking lot, playing with something shiny she'd taken from whatever demon she'd killed. Faith had said something about a pawn brokers or selling it to Anya but quickly stopped talking once she was thrown a burger. The girl had torn into it, grinning ear to ear as she took the first bite. She was the only one who seemed to like the burgers.

It was then Buffy had told her she loved her.

Faith wrapped up the remains of her dinner and shoved it hastily into her jacket pocket. She stood up and brought the smaller girl into a hug.

"No you don't." She whispered into her ear. "You love that I'm here. You love that I take care of you. But you don't love me." Faith had moved so that she could look into her eyes. "You might one day though, and that's enough." She'd kissed her forehead and let go of her.

And then the conversation ended. A new one begun. The fact that Buffy loved her, regardless of whether Faith would let her or not, wasn't spoken of again.


End file.
